


touching hearts, that kind of jazz

by scionofthelongproject



Series: counting countless chances [2]
Category: Constantine (Comic), Constantine (TV)
Genre: Gore, Gory sex, Happy sex though!, Multi, Super Consensual, everyone is okay overall, if you hate blood this isn't your thing, or rather, this isn't for the faint of heart, this just in: Zatanna Zatara is a heart stealing succubus? More news at 11
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 16:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17369384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scionofthelongproject/pseuds/scionofthelongproject
Summary: Only two months into their relationship, and he feels like their names are burned into his bones.Obviously, only one way to find that out.





	touching hearts, that kind of jazz

**Author's Note:**

> One last warning: Not the usual sex you're looking for.

The dishes are manageable today.

For once, depression and anxiety aren't working to conspire against him. He's felt guilty the last few days; his part of living here has been to take care of household chores, and he's just been stuck in his room, thinking about-

He scrubs the pan harder, as if he's able to scrub away the memories of the past. Arms wrap around his waist and lips press against his neck, pulling him back to shore. “Look at you, my hardworking housemaid.”

“Oh, fuck off, Nick,” John says with a half smile. 

“It's nice to see you out and about.” Nick lets go, reaching into a cupboard for a mug. “We were trying not to disturb you. You've seemed…off. The last couple of days, at least.”

So they have picked up on it. He's been hoping they wouldn't, but he muses that it wasn't that hard to pick up on his reclusiveness. “Just dealing with demons. Not the usual kind,” He quips. “Personal ones.”

Nick's lips twitch. “Not the fun ones.”

John turns the faucet off, drying his hands on a towel. “No, definitely not the fun ones. Otherwise, I would've shared.” He's been avoiding talking about his past, about the monsters that crawl in the recesses of his soul, clawing at him every second. How would they feel, knowing what he did? 

Nick can see the pain in his eyes, and he presses a kiss to John's lips softly. “There's this thing Zee can do.”

John cocks a meaningful smile, remembering the last few nights before his reclusive episode. “I think she's already shown me.”

The expression on Nick's face makes him think twice. “No, she really hasn't.” Hands go up his chest, resting over his heart. “She could make what's on your mind a little more bearable.”

“I don't deserve that,” John says, too caught off guard to be filtered. He's been trying for so long to hide it, and in his moment of weakness, the last thing he needs is to be made to feel better about it. 

“It's not about whether you feel like you deserve it or not,” Nick says rather sternly. “This is about you being able to sleep and actually relax.”

Oh, so they did hear the screaming. John knows his night terrors can be bad, but he didn't know that they were already escalated. “I don't…” He trails off, looking off to the side so he can think. It wouldn't be the worst thing ever. Just a small pick-me-up from Zatanna. “What is it, some kind of massage?” 

Nick grins ear to ear. “You could say that.”

* * *

She's sitting in the windowsill in her study, cloak wrapped around her tight as the rain pours down outside. Three books float around her, and she consults one before dropping a root into a flask. She's a visage of everything magic, and when she looks over to him with a dazzling smile, his heart swoons.

“Nick said something about you helping me,” John manages to fumble out. 

“It's what I'm working on right now,” Zatanna replies, motioning for him to come hither. When he does, she pulls his sleeve. “Sit down.”

He does so against the wall underneath the sill, and he moans as her hand cards through his hair. Gods, he loves when either of them do that. He's been touch starved for so long that he nearly comes at the feeling of it. She knows it too; she giggles as her nails caress along the sensitive skin of his neck. “Fucking she-devil,” He mumbles. 

“You love it,” She coos. 

That he does. He wishes it never stopped, that Nick and Zee could drown him in their affection until his heart stilled. He remembers a week ago when his face smothered by her breasts as both him and Nick rutted into her, and how he came from the lack of oxygen. It'd be a hell of a way to go out. “What's your plan?” 

“If I told you, you wouldn't agree to it. What I will tell you is that it'll make you feel better in a lot of different ways and I will have to inject you with a type of painkiller.” Zatanna turns his head up by his chin so he's looking up at her, and fuck, if she doesn't ooze power and authority when she does it. “That being said, do you want to continue?”

“Anything for you,” He whispers. She's a siren, a vixen that's stolen him away to a far off land. If they hadn't already explained her actual species - _Homo Magi,_ Nick had said as he handed an ancient book over to John that gave what little information was known about them - he'd think she was fae, wanting to steal him away to another realm. She must know how he feels; there are times when she's hip deep inside of him, whispering with her hand on his neck that she wants to take him and hide him away for herself and Nick. He can't ever say no when he's sandwiched between her with her strap-on and Nick with his mouth wrapped around John's cock, and he doesn't think he ever will be able to deny them anything. They took him in, a stray off the streets, and now he's their pampered pet, eager to please. 

“You'll have to get in my bed.” 

He nods, standing to move towards the study. When he looks back, she kisses him, deeper than Nick did in the kitchen. It sends him spinning as she presses him into her bedroom through the doorway connected to the study. Her touch is methodical, planned out to the very tease of her nail. “Strip,” She commands softly as she pushes him into the bed. 

John sheds his clothes before he even thinks about it, heart beating rapidly in anticipation. Zatanna walks over to her dresser to pull something out, and when she gives a quick glance over her shoulder, she smiles as she lays eyes on his cock. “Don't stare, I get stage fright,” He teases. 

She exclaims something in another language, probably backwards. “You? Stage fright? Don't make me laugh.” She turns around with a bundle of silk rope, giggling when his dick bounces against his stomach in desperation. “I know you love the attention.”

John nods, waiting with bated breath to see what she'll do. Taking a look at her, the average eye wouldn't imagine Zatanna to be dominating, let alone lay a finger on someone to cause them harm even if they wanted it. But the first time he saw her undress, he could see the way leather could wind over her and how her hands are the perfect kind for wrapping around his throat and how her voice is melodic in tone and would be a voice that he could listen to every word of. He expressed his opinions to Nick, who never tried to urge her into it before but agreed all the same. Both the men slowly maneuvered her, easing her into all different kinds of things, John more so than Nick. She's grown into the most perfect domme for him, a soft yet stern hand that punishes him only when he deserves it but spoils him relentlessly when he's good. She meets his eyes and hers twinkle like stars. “Semi fine,” She tells him. Not strict tonight, a very loose session; he doesn't have to listen to her every word tonight but she prefers it if he does, and oh, does he love listening to her. 

The rope wraps around his ankle, tight but not too tight, before she moves onto the next one, securing all of his limbs to the bedposts. A thought occurs to him as she rounds the bed again. “Why don't you use magic? Nick does.” 

“A few reasons. I like the image that seeing you in rope gives. I don't see magic strain against your wrists when you try to touch me, but I love watching you struggle and seeing how your hands are stopped.” Her eyelashes drop and she smiles like she just conquered the devil. “And then I must confess that I love seeing your wrists red afterwards.”

Holy. Fuck. She's perfectly sultry and sexy and downright filthy and he loves it. 

He watches her pull a syringe from the dresser, and he squirms a bit. “That the painkiller?”

She nods, knowing his need for confirmation, that he needs to know everything being put into his body after all of the incidents that he's had. She whispers under her breath and drops her cloak, revealing the white corset underneath. There's a red cross on her chest, and ruffles around the bottom of the corset. A garter belt holds her lacy stockings up, and her heels are surprisingly small tonight. “Hello, nurse,” He whistles. 

Zatanna beams at the compliment. “You don't think it's too much?” 

John shakes his hips a little, drawing her attention to his cock. “Trust me, love, you would be able to tell if I thought it was too much.”

With a mirthful laugh, she straddles his chest, her slit just visible enough through the ruffles. His mouth waters at the sight, and she tilts his chin up again. He knows the hunger in his eyes is easy to read and she shakes her finger at him in obvious chastisement. “Mm, this isn't about you giving me pleasure, pet.” She readies the syringe in her other hand. “Keep your head back until I say.”

John nods slightly, hissing when the needle stabs into his chest. It dives deep, and he swears it reaches his heart before a calming numb spreads through his chest. Her hands prod around his neck before she moves down, and to his amazement, he doesn't even feel the pressure of it. He can't even tell she's touching him except for the movement out of the corner of his eye. “Can you feel anything at all?” 

“No, Mistress,” He answers. 

“Good. Give me a minute.” 

She stays straddling his stomach, and he hears the tinkering she's doing with something. He closes his eyes, trying to stave off the temptation to look. As much as he wants to see what she's doing, he must listen to her direction lest she gives him a good whipping later. 

Oh, now he _really_ wants to look. 

Something caresses against his entire body, and his eyes shoot open from the sensation. “Zatanna-”

She hushes him, and he feels something touch his very soul, like a livewire is jammed against it. He lets out a high moan, hands jerking down and being caught by the rope. It feels like when he's over sensitive after a peachy night, the kind where he gets fucked senseless over and again until he can't move any of his extremities. It happens again, and he writhes underneath her as something seems to work itself out, like a knot in his back. The instant it does, he shouts as he spasms in a dry orgasm. Whatever she's doing is like sex and therapy rolled into one ball and he can't help but to want more of it; it makes everything go away for just a fleeting second. Multiple brushes against his entire existence make his toes curl and he cries out, still sensitive from his freshest shattering. He needs to know how she's doing this, he thinks as another quake of ecstasy rolls through him. He could just take a peek-

Time seems to stop as he looks down. She sits there, concentrating deep on her hands buried in his chest. Her forearms are covered in blood, his blood, and he can see how her fingers curl under his ribs to tease at his heart. His literal heart. She's literally touching his heart. Blood pools around her wrists, coagulating rather thickly. A scratch of a nail makes him shudder and she looks up to meet his eyes, panicked. 

“I can explain-” 

He cuts her off. “Zatanna, I'm two seconds away from blowing another load and I really want to feel me inside of you.”

Zatanna blinks in shock. “Are you...turned on by this?” 

“Love, you know I'm depraved and you look like you're about to steal my heart and eat it and I need to go on record saying I would absolutely let you.” He gasps as she presses a bit deeper, finding another part of his soul that's tense. “Short answer is yes, I'm absolutely turned on by this.”

“Hang on, I need to work some kinks out,” She mutters. 

“You're going to be down there for eternity then.” He whines as she pushes down, undoing another weight that seems to be holding him under. “Zee, please, I need you so fucking bad.”

She grins wickedly. “How bad?” 

“Z-zee-” His voice cuts off as the most intense pleasure he's ever felt racks his body. All he can manage is a choking sound as it continues, and he can feel the rope bite into his wrists as he thrashes. “Zee, f-fuck, Mistress, please, so bad, so goddamn bad!”

Zatanna pulls her hands out and the sight of them coated in red is jaw dropping. Her eyes look down, and her smile softens. “Are those heartbeats for us?” 

“You and Nick, love. Only you two,” John croaks out. 

She crawls back, leaving small handprints of blood as she steadies herself. He moans as she slowly sinks onto him, sounding like a wanton whore in an alley. She's already soaked, fitting him ever so flawlessly  Her hands crawl back up his chest, and the moan drops into a whimper as she touches his heart again. “Let me feel your soul, my sweetling,” She coos, and fuck, if he dies right here, it'll be without regrets. Her fingers lace through his ribs and cup his heart and for the first time since he was born, he feels nothing but love. It's so strong, so potent, that he feels it nearly crushing him into nothing. 

“Zatanna,” He gasps. 

Bending down, she kisses up his skin, and as her eyes dart up to meet his, she dips in to drag her tongue along a strip of his heart. 

He's fucking gone, jaw slacking as he comes. Her fingers dance along his heart still, torturing the tissue in the cruelest pleasure she can. He fades in and out, the sheer force of rapture possessing him like a ghost. What brings him back is the small jerk of her hips, her cunt dragging across his cock in a vicious stroke. 

He opens his eyes to her holding a piece of bone… ribs? “Are those my-” 

“Take this from me,” Zatanna mutters.

“Certainly.” Nick appears from seemingly out of nowhere, camera in hand. John looks down, gaping at seeing his heart bare to the world. Before, it'd felt like he had some protection with his bones, but now he feels the nakedness of his existence without it. Zatanna covers the entire organ with her palm, and he groans as the feeling of a warm blanket surrounding his soul envelops him. “You look the part of a succubus, Zee,” Nick muses as he takes the shot of her hand on John's heart. 

“Fucking gorgeous,” John adds on, a prayer to his goddess, his warrior angel. 

Nick hums, dropping his hand down to skim across John's lungs. It feels like a breath of fresh air, and his eyes cross as the hand trails up his neck and grabs his jaw. “She's not the only one looking gorgeous,” Nick croaks as he rubs his thumb along John's lips, and he groans as John traces his tongue around his thumb. “Heathen.”

“Better punish me then.” 

Nick unzips his pants with haste, and John barely has time to breathe before Nick slides his cock into John's mouth, just the way he knows his pet likes it. A hand grabs his hair and John groans along Nick's length. Zatanna idly plays with his heart, riding him like he's her personal fucktoy, moans and sighs bubbling out of her. She's pushing him past his limit, nearly electrocuting his nerves with how much she massages him. She touches near an aorta and he yelps from the pain it's near. “Oh, dear. That's a heavy one,” She murmurs. 

“Fix it, my love. He deserves it.” Nick moans as John swirls his tongue around his cock. “He's being such a good boy.”

It's all building up, and John's eyes flutter as he fights through the lack of oxygen. Nick notices, pulling back just enough to give John air. A thumb presses on the problem area and he whines as she rubs it slowly. Something's being released, something that's been holding him down for a long time. At a point, it drops from being painful to it being something that makes him feel complete. Is this nirvana? Is this what they all mean when they say spiritual enlightenment?

Nick grips John's hair and starts to thrust into his mouth, precum coating his mouth deliciously. He can't help but to moan as Zatanna clenches around his cock tightly, drenching him in her juices. Her thumbs press hard against his heart and he screams as he comes again, filling her again. He can feel the mixture of their cum dripping down his shaft and balls, and tears prickle in his eyes from the sensations, the stimuli. Oh God, it's going to be the death of him. Nick groans, fucking into John like his life depends on it. It's so goddamn erotic, the way Nick bites his lip and looks at John with the same kind of look he gives Zatanna; the fact that Nick regards him on the same level as the Magi is humbling and ego feeding all in one. He pistons into him like a man possessed until he digs his nails in, spurting hot seed down his throat. “Fuck,” Nick growls. “You're so goddamn perfect.”

The words are the first hit that starts a feeling that consumes him both physically and spiritually, and it finishes as Zatanna presses a open-mouthed kiss on his heart that's beating so hard. All three of them moan as he breaks apart, and his eyes roll back as he writhes and tenses underneath the bonds in complete peace. He feels holy, feels clean, full of hope. 

With a snap of her fingers, the rope unwinds and wraps itself around Zatanna's hand. John tries to move his fingers, barely getting any response. He turns back to see Zatanna already putting him back together, ribs right where they belong. With a glowing needle and no thread, she stitches his chest back together, leaving no scar whatsoever. The hand that was in his hair moves to caress his cheek. “How are you feeling?” Nick asks. 

“Peaceful,” John whispers. 

They both lay down and cuddle into his side, Nick on his right and Zatanna to his left. Hands keep him grounded, skimming over spots that he shivers at. The feeling of numbness is fading away, and when he can feel normal again, he stretches out. “Mm, time for me to make it up to you both.”

“Wait-” Zatanna starts to say, but he moves too quickly for him to stop himself from licking at the mess between her thick thighs and making her moan. His arms wrap around them, pinning her to the bed and burrowing his tongue deep into her cunt. A groan bubbles out of him as he tastes them together; the only thing that beats it is when Nick's flavor is added in. He can feel Nick shift, and something caresses over his ass before a cold liquid drops down his hole. 

He gasps as he looks up at Zatanna, watching as she whimpers and struggles against his hold. Her hands fidget with the rope, and he notices how it seems to be a repetitive pattern. Nick presses a finger into him, and John mewls against her lips, eyes fluttering as he grinds back against Nick's hand. Something wraps around John's throat, and he takes a shaky breath as Zatanna tosses the rope to Nick. “Put this around him.”

The rope hooks around his chest and back, pulling exactly where he needs the rope pressed against him. Nick slips another finger inside, and John whines. “Please, Nick.”

“Ah, ah,” Nick tuts. “You don't think I couldn't just slip right inside you? I know how ready you are for me. This is about patience.”

Zatanna cards her hand through John's hair. “He did so good throughout that, Nick.” A moan escapes her, almost to prove her point. “I say give him a treat.” 

Nick scoffs before grinding up John's ass. “You're lucky she's our domme tonight or I'd be taking you apart for hours.”

John can't help but to grin before wrapping his lips around Zatanna's clit, tonguing his benevolent goddess until she's writhing underneath his hold. He hums against it as Nick slides into him, thick and filling and hard. A hand grips the rope leash, and John grunts as it digs into his throat. A clicking sound makes him looks up and sees Zatanna holding Nick's camera down to face the two men. Nick reaches forward and covers John's eyes, and John can feel his cock throb and ache at such intimacy. The rope digs in harder, and another click sounds as she captures the erotic moment. Nick uses the leash as leverage, pounding into John with a desperation that makes his nerves on fire. Zatanna wraps her legs around his head with a shout, and fuck, he's so ready for death by suffocation. Her essence spills out, drowning him ever so carnally as Nick slams into him one last time before he feels the splash of warmth deep inside of him. It all flips a switch and he whines as his over stimulated dick throbs one last time, painting the sheet in white ribbons. He collapses into Zatanna, face resting against her soaked mound. “Fucking hell, loves,” John groans. “Keep going at me like that and I'll be buried next week.”

“Now we wouldn't want that,” Nick croons before kissing John's back. “After all that work Zatanna put into you.”

“Spiritual chiropractor at your service,” She pants out, still catching her breath. 

“Is everything going to stay like this? Inside me, I mean.” John asks, rolling to cuddle into Zatanna's side. Nick follows suit, wrapping his arms around John. 

“Souls are like bones. Eventually, the pain will return and settle in. But you'll ease into it enough that unless you focus on it, you wouldn't be able to tell,” Zatanna answers. “Sorry I can't make it permanent.”

“No, love, don't be sorry,” John corrects. “This is perfect. Amazing that you were able to do it in the first place.”

Zatanna blushes at the compliment, knowing why he's so impressed. “The cutting was the hardest thing compared to the rest of it.”

“But gorgeous to watch,” Nick purrs. “To watch you trust her so heavily under bindings.”

“Keep talking like that and I might have you gag me again, Necro,” John teases. 

Zatanna makes a content sound. “Oh, my dears. Hush yourselves.”

John huffs in amusement, but nonetheless, he goes silent as someone traces down his neck. “Why do you two care so much about me?” He has to know, has to know what makes him so desirable to a high class necromancer and a demi deity, when he's just street magic that someone tossed out. He can't feel the sins right now, but it's only a matter of time before they come slithering back like snakes to bite at him with nightmares. “You barely know anything about me.”

“Your name is John Constantine,” Zatanna starts. 

“You're twenty three,” Nick adds. 

“You used to be a frontman for a punk band named Mucous Membrane.”

“You hunt demons and the supernatural because you want to put those skills to use.”

“But at the same time, you can be selfish sometimes, and that's okay,” Zatanna says softly. 

“Because we love you so dearly, John Constantine. We'll cross a thousand oceans to gather pieces of you.” Nick presses a kiss into his hair. 

“Bastardized version of the story.” John shakes his head. “You may be Isis, but I'm not Osiris.”

“Arguable.” Zatanna kisses his forehead and then his lips. “You are like the sun to my star and his moon, my sweetling.”

Nick cups his cheek. “One day, you'll share those demons with us, and we'll be there to help you face them.”

John swallows. “You're not going to leave me?” 

“It'll take a couple of pretty big demons to drag us to Hell, my gem, and that's the only way we're going out,” Nick says with a smile. “After all, we've got a goddess on our side.”

Zatanna groans, spitting something out in backwards before getting up and shrugging out of her lingerie. “I'm still in the mood to whip something, Nicholas. Don't tempt me.”

John watches as Nick gets up to help Zatanna into her casual tank top and lounge pants. It's so passionate, so intimate, and Nick glances over to John before holding out his hand.

John takes it.

He takes it because he wants to follow Zatanna back to her studies. 

He takes it because he wants to watch Nick dissect Latin over and again to try and make new spells.

He takes it because he wants to feel loved. 

He takes it because he's finally found a home to do chores in. 

He takes it because he has a family. 

 


End file.
